


Leashed

by paintstroke



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: Blowjobs, Cain tries (in his own way), Collars, Dominance, Embarrassment, Leashes, Light BDSM, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Submission, boundaries what boundaries, pitiful kink negotiation techniques, playful, seriously boys you’ll have to get better at this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 08:56:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10760925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paintstroke/pseuds/paintstroke
Summary: From a(n old) request on More Biting Next Time: Cain using a collar + leash on Abel.





	Leashed

Abel’s heart was pounding. He thought he was prepared for most things. Still… this was new. 

“C-cain?” he stammered out in a bit of confusion when he sorted out what he was seeing.

There was a vague answering grunt from around a cigarette on the far side of the room, where Cain was lounging on what was supposedly his own bed, though it rarely had anyone in it at night. Abel watched the blue glow of a datapad play across Cain’s angular features, but the fighter refused to look up or engage him directly. 

Alright then. Cain’s manners, or lack of, really weren’t the main focus of his attention at the moment. Abel swallowed, and set down the duffel bag with his work things. He made an effort to hold onto a normal tone of voice, as if it were something that normally happened to people. “Why is there a leash and collar on my bed?” 

Cain’s laugh had a dark edge to it. “Why do you think?” There was a flash of teeth as he managed to smirk around the cigarette; his eyes finally lifting away from the datapad to look at Abel. 

Flustered, Abel flinched away at the eye contact and stared at his bed instead, transfixed by the serpentine coils of the dark leather on the white standard-issue sheets. Abel’s hand raised up absently to touch at the the healing scar on his lip. _So possessive…_ Tension flickered tightly through his core, the idea inspiring bursts of nervousness… and temptation. Abel bit at his lip, trying to stop his mind from whirring deeper into dark fantasies. _They really shouldn’t…._

Cain ground out his cigarette and stood up, tossing his datapad across the bed haphazardly. With leonine grace and a dangerous intensity, Cain approached Abel. Abel’s mouth went dry and his protests and confusion melted away. Despite - or because of? - his nervousness, he felt every heartbeat push himself closer to hardness. Unsure of what to do, he froze. Somehow, there was still enough blood in his head to raise a hot blush on his cheeks. 

Cain stopped. He was close enough to force Abel to look slightly up. Abel felt his breathing grow shallower, faster, at once both tempted to close the remaining distance between them and afraid to. He refused to look down, afraid to draw attention to his increasing erection, instead keeping his eyes trained on Cain’s, not sure what he was searching for in that unreadable expression.

Abel jumped slightly at the feather-light touch of Cain’s fingertips on his cheeks. Cain looked dangerously calm. “When I ask you a question, _Abel,_ you really should answer…” Cain purred, looking entirely too sure of himself. His hands swept back with more pressure, the soft leather of his half-gloves against Abel’s cheek as Cain’s fingers carded into pale hair.

Oh Mother. What was it that Cain had asked? Why was there a leash? 

“Because…. you want me to wear it?” Abel forced his obvious guess from a throat that did not want to cooperate, from mind that didn’t want to form words anymore. It was getting hard to think. 

Cain smiled lazily, just a slow and lopsided curve of his lips. “Yes. If you want. What do you think?” The part of Abel’s brain that could still focus on _anything_ but desire made Abel wonder just how deceptive Cain’s tender look was. Abel tried to remember to breathe as he rubbed his cheek cat-like into Cain’s palm. He desperately wanted to narrow the slight distance between their bodies, to pull Cain in for a kiss, to drop to his knees and...

_Answer his question! What did he think? He_ couldn’t _think. Um. Did he want this? Desperately. Did he want Cain to know that? Not really. To have that sort of power over him? And yet...._ “I um… haven’t… really thought about... things like…” Abel stammered a lie. He couldn’t meet Cain’s dark gaze any longer; his eyes shifted down to the floor. 

Cain’s laugh was low, notes of triumph sneaking in. “If you want to lie about things like that you should hide your tablet better.”

Abel’s cheeks immediately flamed a darker red, and he shut his eyes. He wanted to drop through the floor. He wanted to _die_ rather than have this conversation with his new fighter. No. That wasn’t quite right. _First_ he wanted to kill Cain for violating his privacy - and _then_ he wanted to drop dead from the embarrassment. That message short-circuited in his frazzled brain, failing to make it between his legs.

The fingers pulled away from his cheek. There was a slight scuff of shoes on the hard floor and Abel was convinced he could feel a drop in the temperature of the room when Cain moved away from him. 

“Cain…” Abel gritted his teeth and balled his hands into fists. He tried to ignore the fact that the humiliation seemed to only increase his need. Abel opened his eyes warily, standing his ground but still waiting for this to be a terrible joke. 

Cain sat down on the bed, expression unreadable, eyes flicking restlessly over Abel’s expression. Uncertainty was eating into his triumphant air. He picked up the collar and held it out to Abel, almost casually. 

Abel didn’t move. “Cain… seriously… what is this?”

Cain furrowed his eyebrows and made a frustrated noise. Rather than answer, he pressed the piece of soft leather into Abel’s hand. 

Abel took it, but held it tentatively, as if he was expecting it to bite. 

Abel’s acceptance of the collar seemed to flip a switch in Cain though, changing the uncomfortable tension into something far more promising. A hint of tongue appeared briefly at Cain’s lips, and he made sure he had Abel’s attention, dark eyes meeting dark eyes. Cain slowly and deliberately spread his legs, stroking himself through his pants with one hand, leaning back on his other arm as if to enjoy the show. “Put it on, if you want to.” He made the words sound casual, consequence free. Abel was pretty sure they were anything but. 

“And then?” Abel asked, suspiciously. He swallowed, feeling like the air around him had turned to syrup with how lightheaded he was feeling. His body was betraying him - he could feel himself straining, practically pulsing against the constrictive fabric of his uniform with every rapidfire heartbeat. But just because he wanted it didn’t mean he had to give in. 

Cain’s hand stilled and he gritted his teeth, sharp edges of irritation shattering his seductive posture. “Look this was supposed to be… fuck!” Cain sighed, trying to soften the growl, his anger and frustration fleeting. “Just fun,” he offered more softly. “Because I thought you’d…” he gestured, a wave that could mean everything and nothing. 

“Just with you?” Abel looked nervously around the empty room. 

“Just here.” Cain curled his lip. “No one will get to see you like this but me,” he promised, his voice getting husky and soft, the angry edge gone. He didn’t touch Abel, seemingly waiting for the navigator to make up his mind. 

“And if I say stop…?”

Cain growled, irritation sparking briefly back into existence. “Then everything fucking stops. Or not. Maybe we stop if you say pineapple. I don’t fucking know. What the hell do you want this to be?”

“If I say stop we stop.”

“Fine.” Cain acquiesced through his gritted teeth, but pleasure went sparking through his eyes with Abel finally saying something decisive. 

Abel sucked his lower lip into his mouth and held the collar back out to Cain. 

Cain looked up at Abel as if trying to decide whether the navigator was purposefully trying his patience. 

“In that case…” Abel let his own voice growing soft, and his eyes started to feel heavy-lidded. “Would you put it on me?” he held the collar out by its two ends with hands that trembled, everything at this moment felt charged and electric. 

Cain took it and paused, his eyes on the high collar of the navigator’s casual uniform. “Take off your top.” Cain’s voice was soft and that made Abel all the more nervous. This wasn’t for show… or if it was… this show was just for him. 

And it made Abel’s mouth go dry when he realized just how much he _wanted_ to obey. His hands shook as he reached for the clasp at his shoulder. He unwrapped the fabric from across his chest, pulling it free from his pants and slowly stripping it from his arms. The shake in his fingers made it slow, and his heart threatened to escape his chest with each quick beat. He felt like he had no strength left here, even control of his own body was tentative when Cain was around, overwhelmed by his dizzying urges. He let the top fall to the floor. 

Abel raised his hands to the back of his head, turning to present his back to Cain. Although his hair wasn’t too long, he lifted the ends off his neck, baring the skin completely and looking over his shoulder.

He was gratified to realize that Cain’s breathing wasn’t so steady either as the fighter stood. Cain pressed himself into Abel’s back for a moment, before stepping back. The touch of his hands grazing Abel’s naked skin was electric. Abel tried to remind himself to breathe as Cain settled the collar gently around his neck. 

Cain had to draw further away in order to do the buckle up, breath gracing unpredictable caresses across Abel’s bare shoulder. Cain slipped a finger between the leather and Abel’s neck. It might have been his imagination, but he thought he could feel the Fighter’s rapid pulse, through his hands, through his back, as Cain checked to make sure the collar wasn’t going to be too tight unless he wanted it to be. Cain leaned forward again, his lips a soft brushing heat skimming across the divide between leather and skin, following the paths his fingers had traced. Abel let his head drop backwards against Cain, already struggling not to just fall pliant into Cain’s arms, drowning in the need for contact, to be touched. 

When Cain moved away, Abel whimpered at the loss, hands briefly grabbing Cain’s casual fatigues in desperation to keep him nearby. Cain’s determined movements pulled the fabric roughly through his fingers. Abel was left standing, eyes closing for a few heartbeats as he caught his balance again. He turned to find Cain when he had steadied himself. 

Cain sat on the low bed again, reaching back for the leash without looking. He didn’t take his eyes off of Abel. His dark eyes were magnetic, pulling Abel in. Abel took a few steps forward, already shaky with desire. Cain spread his legs again, beckoning Abel closer as he reclined, eyes smoldering with promise as his fingers closed on the leather leash. 

Abel stood uncertainly between Cain’s parted thighs, unsure of what to do with his hands, unsure of what his exact role here was. Abel’s heart raced for too many reasons. 

“On your knees,” Cain commanded.

Abel swallowed and took his time, slowly lowering himself to the floor. He let his knees splay wide under the regulation bunk, leaning back slightly to keep eye contact with Cain as he sat back on his heels. 

The possessive lust that flared on Cain’s face was enough encouragement for Abel to just hold still as Cain settled in closer. The navigator tilted his head up and to the side, baring his neck and the collar both. Cain leaned forward and Abel fought to keep his eyes from shutting. He failed. It was so much. He wanted to drink it all in. The familiar, lingering scent of smoke almost covering the fainter scent of bootleg alcohol, the feel of hot breath against his cheek. Cain so close. It was enough to make his lips part, expectation rising and starting to overpower any other thoughts.

The finality of the click of the carabiner on the leash shutting made his eyes snap open again. Abel’s breath was erratic, growing more frantic as he watched Cain wrap the leather of the leash around his hand with elegant twists of bruised knuckles and long fingers. 

The first kiss was pressed into his cheekbone, soft and gentle. Abel leaned into it as Cain pulled back, pushing up off of his own thighs as he chased the sensation, searching Cain’s face as the fighter gently pulled the leash taut. The tension through the leash encouraged Abel to arch himself higher as Cain leaned back. Cain gathered in the slack, looped the leash once more and tucked the hand holding the leather into his chest, pulling Abel just so slightly off balance as he leaned over for a proper kiss.

Abel’s hands shot out, catching himself on Cain’s thighs before he could overbalance and crash into the fighter. The situation itself - more than being physically pulled off balanced - made Abel feel entirely unsteady. He watched, managing to do so for once, as Cain’s own eyes drifted shut.

Cain’s lips were always surprisingly soft for being so thin. Abel let Cain hold him in place, letting Cain guide the kiss for the moment, unsure but willing to see where Cain would take them. Cain’s lips brushed briefly over his own, lipping softly, gentle plush brushes of warm skin. His tongue was a hot contrast, tracing out to lick at the scar on Abel’s lip with a familiar gesture. Abel sucked in a shaky breath as he let his mouth open slightly. An invitation. The tension on the leash increased, and he leaned in, putting more of his weight onto his hands to keep his balance. Cain made a contented noise, and then his tongue was back. 

The press of lips against his own grew more demanding, the movements quicker, less predictable. Cain’s tongue was relentless, flashes tracing lines on his lips, slower caresses into his mouth. Abel felt dizzy as he tried to answer in kind, tried to match the pace. Cain’s tongue lingered for a moment, letting Abel revel in catching it with his own. Abel moaned into Cain’s mouth, and Cain’s answering noises were intoxicating. 

Abel felt his heartbeat speed up as Cain brought his teeth into play, fear and memories of pain spiking adrenaline through his system. He froze and whimpered, pulled back against the leash, and Cain relentlessly pulled him forward again. His teeth were a threat, but a gentled one, nibbling softly into Abel’s lower lip for a moment. Heady with the rush of it all, Abel tentatively bit back, gently nipping Cain’s upper lip in a soft retaliation. Cain hummed, pulled away when Abel felt a smile pull those lips tight, leaving him with soft kisses again. Abel let his eyelashes flutter up from his cheeks to look up at Cain watching him. His expression had gone soft with desire and power. 

Abel’s abdominal muscles trembled to hold him in the same arch, the slight pressure of the collar around the back of his neck reminding him that he had to stay there. Abel’s hands spasmed, slender fingers gripping tightly into Cain’s spread thighs and he couldn’t help but whimper again. 

Cain was ever-ready with a smirk - Abel watched those flushed lips pull into something smug and prideful for a moment. Cain’s other hand carded through Abel’s loose waves of hair, stroking, another promise of pain and pleasure blurred together but for now, oh-so-tender. Abel pushed breathlessly into the blunt edges of nails against his scalp, needing more sensation as he pushed up, chasing the memory of Cain’s lips on his. 

Cain gave a soft laugh along with an all-too-brief kiss. Desperation flooded through Abel and he moaned as the strokes through his hair changed, becoming stronger and then turning into a tight-fisted grip that broke the kiss and guided Abel’s head down. 

His body was charged, aching with desire as he bent forward, letting the pressure around his neck and the hand on his head move him into position, relief flooding his muscles as he could sit back on his feet again. 

It was so much effort to open his eyes now, he wanted to just be lost to the sensations. He felt hazy, drugged, and he nuzzled forward into the apex of Cain’s thighs, letting Cain play again with his hair, play with the leash as he traced the outline of Cain’s hardness with his nose, with his lips through the fabric. The hand on his head left, the weight an absence that made him moan with regret. But then embarrassing noises from his throat were joined by the rasp of Cain’s zipper. 

Abel watched, still mesmerized after weeks of being allowed this; being able to touch. It was an addiction. Cain’s bruised-knuckled fingers held the base of the cock in front of him, the short gloves a dark contrast against his warm-toned skin.

Abel’s own hands had raised up too, and he moved to cover Cain’s but there was a low noise of disapproval as he brought them closer. Abel forced his hands away back; clenched his pale hands around Cain’s trousers again, not sure if he was trying to hold on, spread Cain’s legs further, or somehow anchor himself to this reality when parts of it still felt like a fever-dream spurred on by the worst parts of his imagination. 

He went back to nuzzling, breathing long lines up and down Cain’s erection, feeling the heavy heat of it against his cheek, against the tip of his nose as he tried to contain his own desire. 

He looked up through his blond forelock and heavy lidded eyes, and the expression on Cain’s face went straight to his own centre. He let out his breath, keeping Cain’s gaze, and watched Cain’s dark eyes flutter shut and his mouth twist in anticipation as Abel’s tongue traced a long path up, darting over Cain’s fingers and over the warmth of his arousal. Abel paused when he reached the crown, watched how Cain’s abdominals clenched in eager anticipation. And Abel couldn’t help but smile to himself as he dipped back down again, repeating the teasing motion on the other side of Cain’s flushed cock. He knew the wet drag of his tongue on hot skin was tortuously slow. The third time he did it Cain was writhing beneath him, powerful muscles undulating in heavy twitches of his hips, his arms, his chest jerking forward as Abel pulled away again. Every aborted movement containing the war between enjoying the tease and wanting _more_. 

The pressure on the leash increased, and Abel’s eyes widened slightly. He trusted Cain, he reminded himself. He licked his lips and ducked forward, trying to relax enough at this angle to make it good. He pressed his lips to the tip, flicking his tongue teasingly over Cain’s tip, before surrendering to the pressure of the collar and taking Cain in as deep as he could. 

Cain’s shuddering moan above him sent a surge of triumph through Abel’s veins. The tension on the leash let up and Abel was able to move slightly, backing off enough to breathe before he sucked down again, eagerly. He was rewarded with more sweet noises from above him, encouraging his tongue to explore in furtive twists as he pulled back. The leash was nothing more than an idea at this point, Cain gripping onto Abel’s shoulder instead. 

And he might wear a leash and collar at this moment, but he was truly the one with the power here. The thrill of that drove Abel to move deeper, his lips meeting the curl of Cain’s fingers at the base of his cock. 

Cain was so hard against his tongue. From that, and from the panted, furtive noises he was softly making, Abel knew that Cain wouldn’t last too much longer. Abel leaned back, intending to draw this out, wanting Cain to _beg_ for release. His tongue teased at the slit of Cain’s cock, pulling the salty taste of precum into his mouth as he hollowed his cheeks. 

And then the pressure was back around his neck. He was forced forward again. Abel managed to take a gasping breath, relaxing as Cain’s hand slipped from the base of his cock, tangling into Abel’s hair instead. Abel moaned, feeling Cain press against the back of his throat. He struggled against the feeling that he needed to breathe. He didn’t, not yet. 

With a cut-off cry Cain jerked forward. Abel choked, pulled back against the leash so he could breathe again. Cain was whispering something in sweet tones, the Russian unintelligible to Abel. The words themselves didn’t matter. Abel moaned again, letting the vibrations tease Cain. Cain’s words held a sharp edge of desperation, and he thrust up once, twice, and Abel felt the pulsing edge of his orgasm a moment before the salty taste of come hit the back of his tongue. 

Abel swallowed quickly, trying to keep up as Cain’s entire body went rigid beneath his hands. The pressure on the leash had disappeared sometime ago, and Abel lazily moved back, licking Cain clean. 

There was one word that he caught, one that he knew was a curse, and then Cain’s hands were on the leash again, pulling Abel up onto the bed and into a tight embrace as they both collapsed onto the sheets.

* * *

It was sometime before either of them felt the urge to speak.

“How do you get a leash?” Abel asked, finally. But the question had remained itchy in his mind. 

“I have ways to get anything I want,” Cain’s answer was confident and lazy, like the non-answer should be obvious. 

“Oh.” Abel mulled this over, distracted enough by the afterglow to just contemplate that for a moment. Embarrassment painted his cheeks in pink when he realized the follow-up question that popped into his mind had nothing to do with worrying about what anyone else knew about what they’d just done. “What else do you think you can get?”

“What else?” Cain raised his eyebrows, but his expression remained curious, hands still running lightly along Abel’s spine in a comforting sort of manner as he glanced down at the navigator. There was something almost tender in his face that Abel hung onto desperately. 

“Yeah… like…” he blushed furiously, and ended up asking a half-question to Cain’s shoulder rather than Cain’s face. “... do you think...? Umm...” He still couldn’t vocalize any of those thoughts. Abel’s ears burned. He gave up on trying. 

When Abel dared to look up again Cain’s lips were pulled thin by a wide, lopsided smirk. 

“You just have to ask.”

~Fin~

**Author's Note:**

> I'm currently working from some old prompts, if you have anything you’d like to see written, feel free to anonymously (or not) request here or on my very sparsely used  tumblr.  Prompts, pics, pretty much anything welcome as inspiration. ;)
> 
> Also, looking for a beta reader if anyone’s willing. Or writing friends to plot with. >;)
> 
> * * *


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